Crestfallen
by Llyn
Summary: A madcap misadventure in which everyone is just the worst. A Lemon Taito with a ridiculous number of side pairings including Jyoumato, Daiken, Daikeru & more. Yaoi.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** Sometimes I imagine myself on trial for my Digimon fan fiction and the prosecutor is reading a really dirty bit and I'm winking at the jury, licking my lips suggestively, thinking thank god I added that disclaimer. I don't own Digimon. Yaoi. Drugs.

* * *

**Chapter One: **_**It's Joe**_

Tai raised his head from his desk with a gurgle when the great white heartbreaker collapsed into the seat beside him with a gurgle of his own.

"Tai," came the teasing, lilting, arousing voice, "Kill me."

"I almost did," Tai answered, after one, two, three attempts to clear his scratchy throat, "In my dream last night. With my hands."

"You had a nightmare?" Bloodshot blue eyes wide and bright as galaxies.

"No," Tai answered. Matt laughed. Tai didn't. Matt stopped laughing.

"How'd I escape?"

"My alarm went off," Tai lied. In fact, in his dream he'd let go of Matt's neck only to force him down over his lap to spank and spank and _spank_ until his ass was red as a berry and tears were streaming down his lovely face. Tai hadn't been sleeping very well lately. He only told Matt that last part.

"Me neither," the blond sympathized. He bit his lip, considering whether or not to explain why. Weighing the consequences.

"Yeah, you don't look great," Tai said, slumping back over onto his desk. Gurgle.

Matt ran his hands down his thin tie, lovingly, a great way to avoid eye contact. "Actually," little laugh, _please don't be mad_, "It's Joe. He's kind of a freak. I think it's the stress he's under."

"It's Joe." Statement. Period. Brown eyes aflame, but carefully averted from the pretty boy forcing an air of nonchalance beside him, but really stroking the hell out of that tie, nervous. Tai had been known to personally splinter the face of more than one of Matt's beaus, depending on his mood any given day.

_10, 9, 8…_Matt counted, preparing for the rocket launch of Tai from the room—off to give the other med students at Joe's school a fresh body.

_1, 2, 3…_Tai counted, breathing carefully, thinking flowers and beaches and little dinosaurs and ice cream and birthdays. And then he breathed in deeply with a mighty sniff and released a long, cleansing breath, _aaaaaahhhhhhh_. Then he snapped the pencil in his hand in half, thinking, Joe's about that skinny.

Matt, primed for an explosion, jumped a foot in the air regardless and hissed, "You scared the shit out of me!"

"So did you!" Tai hissed back, before snarling, "_Joe?_"

"What's your problem?" Blond hair indignantly flipped, "Of all the guys in the world I figured you'd be okay with _Joe_," This was a lie but expertly told. Matt knew no one was okay. No one ever would be. He just didn't understand why not, "I mean, he's one of _us_."

"Whatever."

Matt growled, squeezing his hands around an imaginary neck in a reenactment of Tai's dream, "Don't say whatever to _me_. I mean, it's _Joe_. You love Joe. Joe loves you."

_Yes, he does._ Tai's eyes lit up with an idea so brilliant, so wickedly brilliant he almost cackled out loud, but instead he kept a professional calm and released another resentful "Whatever."

Matt could argue forever with Tai, whether or not the brunette was participating, but just as he opened his mouth with a shout of "You're so childish!" The professor slammed a book on his podium with a glare in their direction. Though what class, exactly, they were sitting in, neither boy knew.

* * *

Old Reliable Joe waited, poised on motorcycle, for Matt, white-hot Matt, to get out of class. The bike had been acquired shortly before the blond, purely coincidence, and Joe couldn't decide which terrified him more during his fleeting moments of sanity. He supposed he was going through a mid-med school crisis, but the sex was so good he didn't care to analyze the strange new creature he'd become.

Life now was speed—in bike form, in pill form, in Matt form. When he wasn't in class he was taking greedy bites of the pale, perfect stomach of his pale, perfect lover, narrow hips arching to meet his teeth as he moved lower, lower, lower.

_God_, Joe loved Matt. He always had.

And there he was, the bombshell, the warhead, the poisoned dart, trailing—oh, god—trailing a scowling Tai. Joe's old friend Panic gripped his stomach momentarily—everyone knew that dating Matt came with a higher face-smashed-in risk than other nice boys you might meet around town. But Panic was replaced by a dizzying wave from Joe's new friend Lust as Matt said hi to Joe using the slightly unorthodox method of shoving his tongue into Joe's mouth. Thankfully, he spun Joe away from where Tai stood, arms crossed. Then it was helmets on, engine gunned, speed, speed, speed. It bugged him though: as good as he felt with Matt's arms wrapped around him, zero to sixty, he could only manage a feeble, anxious, don't-hate-me-do-you-hate-me wave goodbye to his former leader before he took off. Why'd he do that? Was he still that person underneath his new armor? And what was that strange expression on Tai's face called as he watched them speed away?

* * *

Joe's bike was sick. Tai, pissed, got more pissed when he saw it. But then. _Then._ Matt swung Joe around to kiss him and cracked those cruel eyes to lock with Tai's. Blue on wide, mad brown saying _haha_. Teasing. Looking him in the eyes with his tongue in another guy's mouth. Only a full-blown sociopath could be so spiteful. Then sweet Joe waved at him and Tai could've laughed, Matt's words echoing in his head. _You love Joe and Joe loves you. _Tai watched them speed away, eyes sparking with wicked joy, mouth twisted with jealousy.

_Matt, you're going to pay for that stunt with the kiss, for that dick-hardening way you say my name, for making me scared to go to sleep at night. Today you crossed the line. _

* * *

Joe fidgeted on a bar stool, fingering a rolled up bill, watching Matt chop peppers on the other side of the kitchen island. Dawn seeped in through the window, but they'd never gone to sleep. The teeth-grinding come down was upon them both. Speed was an empty baggie discarded on the floor, dust on a mirror, and Joe's anxiety was rearing its head, "Didn't he headbutt his teammate for kissing you?"

"Yeah, he did," Matt paused, knife in midair, remembering.

"Are you smiling?"

Matt fought down his grin. He'd been waiting on the sidelines for Tai after a last-second win when the guy ran up out of nowhere and grabbed him. A second later he was sprawled on the field unconscious, blood spurting liberally from his nose. Onlookers dashed toward the scene from all directions, shouting. And Tai, looking a little embarrassed at the fuss, shrugged innocently at a fuming Matt and just said, "Whoops."

"Sorry," Matt said, but it was funny, looking back, "I just…sorry."

"I mean, if he did that to his own teammate I don't see why he'd spare me."

"Joe, relax," Matt rounded the kitchen counter to drape himself over the back of his panicking lover, "If he tries anything I'll be the one to fight him. We've been fighting each other since we were twelve, you know." All this was purred into Joe's ear, fingers brushing long, dark hair back as lips nibbled at an earlobe.

"You'd think one of you would've won by now," Joe breathed.

Matt withdrew suddenly, back to the cutting board, leaving Joe half hard and half suspicious. "It's not that kind of fight," the blond said, losing his patience.

* * *

Nobody gave it much thought. Tai was protective of his friends. It made sense that he'd be especially protective of his best friend. Matt didn't think about it too deeply, he just knew he liked to piss Tai off. Joe didn't think so much as fear. He hoped his glasses would survive the inevitable beating. The others considered it quintessential Matt and Tai, just another track on the greatest hits compilation of their terrible behavior. And Tai, twisting in his sheets, waking up hard, waking up soaked in sweat, waking up screaming, waking up with a fist through the too thin wall, waking up with Matt's name on his lips, no. Tai didn't wring his hands over his impulse to pulverize the guys Matt liked. He was a doer, not a thinker, and he always did what he felt was right.

* * *

Tai lifted his head from his desk as Matt fell into the seat beside him.

"Tai," the long, playfully drawn out vowel, "You look terrible. What are you doing to yourself?"

Tai could only look back, eyes dull, bottom lip pushed forward. He was too scared to sleep. Matt lurked in his dreams, ready and willing to suck and to fuck and to spend dream hours crushed beneath Tai's weight, mouth open, hair wet with sweat and come, voice so real, all of it so real that Tai had to stay awake or else.

"Pathetic," Matt laughed, untangling the pull-strings of Tai's warm up jacket and pulling the hood off his head, "Is it Sora?" he asked, "Are you fighting?"

"No," Tai said, allowing himself to be fussed over, eyes half-closed.

"She used to keep me awake, fighting."

"'Cause you were cheating on her."

"Is that what you're doing? Are you up all night fucking someone else?" Matt whispered indecently, dodging the bear-like swat Tai aimed for his head.

_I'm too scared to try._ Tai put his head in his arms, miserable, turning away from the blond, "You're a terrible friend," he mumbled into his sleeve, "You always make me feel worse."

"That's not true."

When no response came, Matt, left staring at the back of Tai's head, felt bad. The silly jock was clearly suffering, in over his fluffy head with _something_. How many days now had he come to class with those nasty bags under his eyes? Matt hadn't been counting, too busy daydreaming about Joe's worshipful touch, the gentle torture that reduced Matt to pleading on his knees to be treated rougher, crueler, to be raked over the coals by him, just once.

Tai's eyes flew open when he felt Matt's hand touch his hair, but closed them again in pleasure as Matt massaged his head with deft fingers, playing idly with the great brown mass of it as their professor droned on, rumbling steadily like a distant airplane engine. What class was this, anyway? Tai sighed involuntarily. It felt so good. A warm spring breeze blew in through the open windows, saying hi to Tai, giving him kisses. He didn't wake up until class was over, blinking sleepily at the blond shaking him.

"Feel better?"

"Mm."

"See? I can be nice to you."

"Barely," Tai said, but rewarded Matt with the wide smile he'd been missing.

But the warm, cozy feeling in Tai's heart froze over when he saw Joe. He remembered with sudden stomach-dropping accuracy just exactly how mad he was.

"Get some sleep," Matt said, starting toward the bike.

Tai caught his hand, stopping him. For a moment they both stared down at their clasped fingers. Then Tai said, "You too," and let him go.

Matt didn't follow the advice.

* * *

"I love you," Joe said, lips against Matt's soft hair. Three? Four? Five in the morning? Naked but between orgasms, speeding but between lines, lazily kissing, rubbing, biting while they waited for the next wave of earnest lust to begin.

Matt found he couldn't make a sound in response. Instead he thought of golden brown skin, golden brown eyes, thick, wild hair, that hard fucking body—Matt sat up bolt straight, "WHAT?"

"I-I said I love you," Joe said, confused.

"I…" Matt tried, _I was thinking of Tai._

"I…" He looked at Joe, helpless, and Joe laughed at his expression.

"Don't hurt yourself, Matt."

"Sorry," Matt said.

"It's okay."

"No, it's not. How can you say that?"

"Because I know you," Joe said, brushing the hair from Matt's angry face. _I never dreamt I'd know you like this but here you are. I'm just too stupid to keep my mouth shut. __Just remember what Izzy said._

"Matt…as in Ishida?" Izzy had asked, after hearing Joe's excited confession when he stopped by to drop off the med student's half of Daisuke's adderall prescription, a monthly tradition between the two scholars.

"Is there another Matt?"

Izzy sighed, not bothering to argue with Joe about the number of Matts in the whole wide world, "For our purposes, no. You and Matt, eh? Interesting," Izzy raised a fine eyebrow, considering the possibilities, "Want my advice, brain to brain?"

"Of course."

"Treat him like shit."

Joe stared back, unblinking.

"Genetic lottery winners like Matt—they don't respond to compliments. Presents bore them. The only way to keep them interested is to not give them what they're used to getting."

"I'm not going to treat him like shit, Iz. I've liked him since we were kids."

Izzy made a little face, but relented, "Of course you have. I'm sorry. I become more cynical every day. But if you do run into trouble with him—any kind of trouble at all—just say something mean. I promise it'll work."

It worked every time.

"It's not okay," Matt was repeating furiously, "I'm a fucking jerk."

"Shut up," Joe said, kissing him roughly. Matt arched against him, hands clenched in Joe's long hair as they slid their tongues together.

The sun rose, and Joe drifted in and out of consciousness, arm coiled around the beautiful boy who trailed his fingers in secret patterns over Joe's chest. The stained glass panel he'd hung in his tiny apartment's single window cast soft primary colors onto the bed.

"I love you, too," Matt said, softly, unprompted, sleepy crystalline eyes finding Joe's to prove he meant his words.

He staggered out a few hours later, back to sleep in his own bed for five or six years, maybe forever, leaving a zombified Joe to survey the wreckage in his apartment, a little studio meant for a serious student with no social life, not a sped-up freak and his oversexed rocker boyfriend. He picked up a few condom wrappers littering the floor among his scattered textbooks. Then he heard it.

KNOCK! KNOCK!

When the front door swung open Tai nearly fell over with shock. Joe, rumpled. Sex hair. Tensionless. Confident. Bags under his eyes the size of the bags under Tai's eyes. Jaw clenched, grinding his teeth.

"Heya, Joe."

"Oh god," Joe moaned, realization coming late, pulling off his glasses in preparation, "Please don't headbutt me."

Tai laughed, bright and loud, "Has Matt been scaring you? Mr. Overdramatic." Tai stretched, lacing his fingers behind his head, and strolled uninvited into Joe's apartment with the ease of someone who is always welcome, wherever they go.

* * *

Next up:** Chapter Two: **_**He Bites**_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two: **_**He Bites**_

Waving off Joe's apology for the mess, Tai, shocked, followed the path of destruction Matt had cut through Joe's life. Stepping over a scattering of expensive textbooks, abandoned on the floor, discarded like so many hastily torn condom wrappers. _Ugh._ Pretending not to notice the hastily torn condom wrappers that had escaped Joe's half-hearted attempt to clean. Kicking aside an empty, dusted sandwich bag determined to cling to his sneaker. Then into the kitchen, where dishes covered the stove and piled in the sink.

"Western omelet," Tai said, holding up the remains on a skillet and letting it crash nosily back onto the stove.

Joe, who'd taken refuge from this unauthorized search on his customary stool opposite the kitchen counter, jerked his head up from his hands at the sudden crash, "Tai—"

"My favorite," Tai said, feeling betrayed.

"Tai—" Nerves battling fatigue, Joe brushed his tangled blue hair from his face, only to have it fall forward again as he settled his forehead back onto his palm, forgetting to continue the sentence he'd started.

"Joe," Tai said, leaning against the counter, hiding his irrational, screaming feelings of possessiveness behind an easy smile, "You doing okay, buddy?"

"I'm great," Joe chirped automatically, unwilling to disappoint Tai, a trait he shared with almost all of the DigiDestined. Almost. "I mean, there's Matt—that's kind of a dream come true."

Tai didn't want to hear about dreams. His eyes found the mirror sitting between them on the counter, the razor, the rolled up bill.

Joe followed his eyes and sniffed unconsciously, already longing for more coke and more Matt. He cleared his throat, deciding to pretend the evidence wasn't there, "Um, and there's my bike."

Tai decided to ignore it too, for now, "That's a _sick_ bike."

"Thanks," Joe beamed.

"How's school?" Tai asked, and before Joe could answer, "I always thought you'd end up as this great doctor. I mean, remember when you almost passed out stitching me up with a needle from Togemon and thread from—"

"Mimi's dress, yeah. I forgot all about that. Do you still have the scar?"

Tai showed him the long, light groove running up the back of his forearm.

Joe laughed, "What were we thinking?"

"We weren't. There was too much blood."

The guys shared a smile, "What about when Izzy fell from Kabuterimon, and we all thought his shoulder was dislocated but when you tried to fix it you realized you'd just popped it out of its socket yourself, so then you had to pop it back into its socket again?"

"God," Joe hide his face in his hands, "He wanted to kill me. I've never seen someone's face so red. Except! Remember when Matt tried to use that tree sap to spike his bangs and broke out in that awful rash? And the only way to get it to go away was to—" Joe couldn't finish past a fit of laughter.

"Was to—" Tai, laughing too, couldn't find words for the memory of Matt's patchy red face falling as Joe delivered the news, holding out the scissors from his emergency bag.

Joe took a deep breath, relaxed now that it seemed Tai wasn't here to break his nose. It hadn't felt right, thinking of the dopey athlete as an enemy. "You two put me through my paces. A year interning at the free clinic and I still haven't seen that many black eyes and split lips. And bites."

"Yeah, he bites when he's cornered."

"I know," Joe said, running his finger absently on the countertop tile. Tai felt a stab of jealousy and took another lap around the tiny apartment, walking it off. Joe watched him, wondering, "I kind of figured you came over here to talk about Matt."

Tai shrugged, ready to put his plan in place. "I came here to talk about this," he said, lifting the empty bag from the ground and letting it drift slowly back down to the floor. "I mean, this isn't you. You're gonna be a doctor. You're gonna be the greatest doctor in the world. You got us all through that summer alive, and you were just a kid."

"Tai, _you_ got us through it alive."

"No," big brown eyes soft with modesty, "I only got us into worse trouble. You're the one that saved us. You're the one that put us all back together again. And," Tai idly rolled the bill back and forth under his finger, avoiding Joe's eyes, "you're not gonna like it, but I'm about to return the favor."

"What do you mean?"

Tai lifted the rolled up bill from its place on the mirror, "I mean, why don't you tell me how you're really doing?"

"I don't know, Tai," Joe took the bill from Tai's hand and set to flattening it out on the counter, carefully smoothing out its creases, "I guess school's not going well at all," he began, sounding more like the old Joe, the scared Joe, and Tai drifted to the kitchen as he talked, opening cabinets, returning with a bottle of whiskey and some glasses, nodding compassionately all the while.

* * *

Tai dreamt of Matt on his hands and knees, pushing back against Tai's thrusts. Yanking that long, golden hair back to whisper terrible things into his ear while Matt begged shamelessly to be fucked like a—

A crash beside him brought Tai lurching back to reality as Matt landed boneless in the desk beside him, folding forward until he was just a crown of blond hair and a black long sleeve.

"You okay?"

Matt lifted his head to gaze blearily at his friend, "Joe called it off."

"Hn."

"Said he had to get his life together."

"Hn."

"Said you inspired him."

Tai tried a smile, "I have that effect on people."

Matt shook his head, slowly, "What did," sniff, perfect pale hand swiping angry red nose, pitifully, "What did you _do_, Tai?"

Tai's smile faded. He felt sick. He'd broken his beautiful best friend's beautiful heart, intentionally, selfishly. There was nothing he could do now but deny, deny, deny, "I was worried about him. I gave him a little intervention."

"Bullshit. You broke us up on purpose!" Matt's voice rose a decibel with each syllable until the whole class had turned to stare.

"Come on," Tai said, conscious of the professor's glare, gathering his bag and pulling Matt up with him by the elbow, dragging him from the room. Matt shook off his hand in the hallway but still walked along beside Tai without a fight, through the empty hallway and down the empty stairs, until, reaching a landing, he decided not to follow Tai another step.

"Stop," Matt said. Tai stopped, and turned to look up at where Matt stood hugging himself on the landing, a pretty vision of heartbreak in his tight, black clothes, "Talk."

Tai sighed in defeat, and climbed back up to where Matt stood, wounded, "What do you want me to say? From what I saw over there he was gonna ruin his life just to keep you."

"I know."

"You know?"

Matt shrugged.

"You were gonna let him flunk out of school and give up on his dream? So you could what, feed your ego? Ride his bike?"

"He's an adult. He can choose—"

"It's not a choice with you, it's a fucking addiction!"

"Oh, is that it?" Tai winced at the venom in Matt's voice, backing up further with each step the blond took toward him, "You're so brave, saving _my_ boyfriend from _my_ influence. I mean, imagine Joe having fun for once. It's amazing he didn't die." Tai's back pressed against the wall and Matt pressed against Tai, his hands resting on Tai's chest. Tai knew he'd poked a hornet's nest, but still had to resist the urge to wrap his arms around the blond's hips, to pull him that much closer. "My hero," Matt brought his face dangerously close to Tai's, "I didn't realize how badly I was hurting him when I _begged_ him to fuck me harder."

These last words, delivered in a sultry whisper, made Tai's mouth fall open. "I bet he never did," he heard himself respond, though he couldn't remember finding his voice.

Tai watched the shock reach Matt's weary, beautiful eyes, replaced in an instant by anger, "And you could, right? That's what all of this is about?"

Tai couldn't speak.

"What wrong, Tai? Too scared to admit that you want me, too? That your little straight act with Sora's as convincing as mine was?" Matt challenged, viciously. Tai, whose thoughts had dissolved into a series of sirens and whistles, attacked on instinct.

CRACK!

Matt stumbled backwards, struggling to keep his balance, holding his head in a hand. His other hand flailed blindly for something to grab on to, which he found at the top of the railing, just managing to stay upright.

"Damnit, Tai! What the fuck?"

Tai, stunned and caught up admiring how the lanky musician had taken a hit like that without going down, suddenly realized he'd headbutted his best friend.

"Shit!" he rushed forward, ignoring the stars in his own vision, taking Matt by the shoulders, "Matt, I'm sorry! I didn't—" _Didn't what? Did want you to say what I've done out loud? Didn't want to admit you were right? Didn't want you to reject me?_ Getting so close to Matt had been Tai's second, third, or maybe fourth mistake of the day though, as he grabbed Tai by the shirt with a feral snarl and flung him backwards down the stairs. Tai landed hard, momentum sending him tumbling down the steps, coming to a bumpy halt halfway to the bottom, but before he could get his bearings, the wind knocked completely out of him, Matt was on top of him, throwing punches.

"Why won't you leave me alone?" Matt shouted.

"I can't!" Tai shouted back, hands up feebly defending himself. Of course, he meant he literally couldn't leave with Matt pinning him, but it made Matt, whose ego really was enormous, pause long enough for Tai to topple him. He stood up, grabbed Matt by the shirt, and dragged him kicking and cursing down the remaining stairs to the landing below, where he shoved him roughly against the wall.

"I'm trying to apologize to you!" Tai spat.

"You're terrible at it!"

"You threw me down the stairs!"

"You headbutted me!"

"You didn't go down," Tai said, smiling between panting breaths, releasing his hold on the blond.

Matt let out a single burst of laughter, but then shook his head, expression pained, "What'd you say to him?"

"Matt, I'm sorry."

"He said he loved me," Matt, wincing, touched the bridge of his nose gingerly. Tai brushed his bangs away to look at the angry knot already forming.

"Lots of people love you," he said, not meeting Matt's eyes.

"No, lots of people want to fuck me."

"How many people will kick your ass, though?"

"Definitely not you," Matt said, digging his finger into Tai's side and receiving the gasp of pain he expected.

"I think you broke my rib."

Matt nodded, feeling a little better, "You can't keep interfering with my life, you know. You're not in charge of me anymore."

"I never was," Tai said, and leaned forward to take Matt's pouting face in his hands and kiss him.

Matt bit his lip, hard, but the pain only proved to Tai it wasn't a dream. Then Matt bit harder.

"Ow!"

"What are you doing?"

"I'm kissing you."

"You don't get to kiss me," Matt shoved Tai away with a glare. He bolted down the remaining stairs and out the double doors without looking back. "Idiot," he muttered, raising a hand again to feel the heat pulsing under the bridge of his nose. It seemed to have spread suspiciously to his cheeks.

Tai touched his bottom lip, drawing his fingers away wet with blood. "Idiot," Tai pressed his burning forehead against the cold concrete wall. _Great fucking plan. Break his heart. Beat him up. Force yourself on him. _

_Still,_ he managed a crooked grin, _that was a good fight. _Adrenaline draining, Tai eased himself down the stairs.

* * *

Next up: **Chapter Three: _Friendship Weed_**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three: **_**Friendship Weed**_

Matt laid low, canceling practice and skipping his classes, until a certain contingency forced him to leave his apartment. He'd ran out of weed, and Daisuke didn't make house calls. Wincing in the sunlight, the battered songbird slunk down the road, sick of that stupid, clumsy kiss running through his head, over and over, that stupid kiss. That stupid kiss, fuck. Because Matt had been kissed secretly, openly, in the rain, in the snow, with and without his permission, frenched, butterflied, eskimoed, by fans, by enemies, by Europeans, by his drummer, regrettably by Sora, by—sniff—by Joe, who, okay, maybe he didn't _love_, but just really, really liked, by a parade of faceless one night stands, on stage, backstage, under the stage, in the grass, in the sand, on a plane, by guys with lip rings, tongue rings, blue eyes, brown eyes, gray eyes, green eyes, soccer players, more soccer players, a stray professor, but never by his best friend. And the truth was...well, the truth was…Matt shrugged up his shoulders defensively._ Stupid Tai._

He stopped at the front door of the rented house, prepared for the worst. God, this place was depraved. Even for Matt, this place was depraved. Lifting a damaged hand, knuckles split, he knocked. Four eternal minutes later, when the blond was thoroughly ruffled with impatience, the door swung open. Heavy smoke billowed out into the sunshine, dropping bees and butterflies right out of the sky.

"Hey, heartbreaker, I—Eeyah! What happened to your face?"

"Tai kissed me."

"With his forehead?"

"Hn," Matt said, thinking_ Grrrr._

"Alright, calm down, don't get pissed at _me_. If you look this bad, Tai must be in the hospital with a feeding tube." Daisuke flashed a toothy grin.

Matt smiled back despite himself. The kid was infectious. He followed Daisuke into his cave, specifically _not _noticing the play of muscles beneath his slim fitting shirt. Matt was very good at specifically _not_ noticing lots of things about Daisuke. He'd been practicing it since TK and Ken had put their heads together and hoodwinked the oblivious goggle head into their current, even-for-Matt-depraved arrangement.

"Where's your better two-thirds?" Matt peered in the low lighting at the curtain-draped lair his little brother called home. He crinkled his nose: eau de head shop.

"Out. Somewhere. Together. We're fighting. Or maybe I told them to go. I forget," Daisuke lit a stick of incense, the flame reflecting in his bloodshot brown eyes, "It's hard to keep track, you know?"

"Yeah, I know. I definitely know," Matt flopped onto the well-abused couch with a dejected sigh.

"Please, make yourself comfortable," Daisuke teased, blowing out the flame and placing the stick in a holder overflowing with ash, like most flat surfaces within sight.

"Daisuke," Matt whined, sweet as kitten, hiding his face among the cushions.

"Aw," he said, pushing Matt's legs off the couch to sit cross-legged beside him. He pulled a joint out from behind his ear and lit it. "So what happened?" he asked after a long moment, smoke curling in arabesques above his tousled auburn head.

Matt sat up to accept the joint, "Joe," he started with a pout, then stopped. Then he glared, trying again, "Fucking _Tai_," he spat, then stopped again and shook his head, "It's too stupid to explain."

Daisuke didn't answer, caught up watching the blond take a long hit and fall back into the cushions, exhaling gratefully, his eyes closing with pleasure, his white throat exposed. _Fuck._ Stunning. Daisuke already knew the story anyway—one of the benefits of his role as the warm, drug-dealing center of their community. Izzy had seen Joe post-breakup and Kari knew about her brother acting weird and, of course, TK had heard about the blowout in the stairwell, too.

Stop here to consider TK, who'd be so furious at him for checking out Matt. Cute TK with a universe of freckles on his face and sandy blond hair and no sense of humor when it came to a certain cold, scary, sexy older brother. Daisuke considered himself an expert in the field of cold, scary beauty. A real connoisseur.

"You're staring," Matt said, turning toward Daisuke so the dim light exposed the blossoming bruise over his face.

"Yeah, I bet I'm the first."

Matt took the joint back with a little thanks-I-needed-this, "My head really hurts."

"Did he knock you out?"

"No. I—" Grin, "I pushed him down a flight of stairs."

Daisuke burst out laughing, "Is he okay?"

Matt shrugged. Then groaned. Then hid his face in his hands. Then toppled back down onto the couch. Black shirt riding, deliciously, up.

"Matt, use _words_."

"What if he's right? I mean, I think Tai's right. I know he's right."

"About what?"

"Me wrecking Joe's life."

"Well," Daisuke tread carefully. Blonds are volatile creatures, "You know, Joe's a good guy. He can reset bones and do CPR and suck poison out of your ankle—"

"Did that happen?" Matt asked, curious face lifting from the cushions.

"I'm just saying. That's what he does. That's Joe being Joe. But you?" Daisuke ran a hand through his hair, choosing from an endless list of Matt's finest moments, "You taught me how to shotgun a beer when I was thirteen."

"Well, yeah. You were a natural," Matt explained, sitting up.

Daisuke grinned, clearly flattered, "I'm trying to say you're kind of wild. How long could Joe keep up with you? Were you really gonna be a doctor's…what? House-husband?"

"Plaything," Matt suggested, "Come on, Joe's nice but he's not a saint. Plus, those hands. That calming bedside manner."

"Mm, keep going."

"No. You like it too much."

Two very high boys smiled at each other fondly through the haze.

"I think you're gonna be okay, sunshine," Daisuke nudged him with an elbow.

"Yeah," Matt frowned, that stupid kiss running over and over and over and over, "Except for fucking _Tai_."

"Why bother fucking Tai?" Daisuke teased, ignoring Matt's instant, open-mouthed outrage at this Blatant Misinterpretation, "He's still straight. Not that your ass doesn't tear men from their families daily, but it seems like it'd be a lot of effort catching Tai up to speed when I'm right here."

"This again," Matt bit the inside of his lip, secretly pleased, this private game of theirs so familiar it was an unexpected comfort in these dark, turbulent times, "How many boyfriends do you need?"

"I'll know when I get there."

Matt rolled his eyes but Daisuke didn't stop, "I've got everything's Tai's got," Daisuke shrugged, it seemed simple enough to him. Well, he would call it simple. Ken would call it logical. TK would say shut up, Dai, that's not fucking funny. But it was funny. It was hilarious, "We'd have fun."

"You don't have everything Tai has," Matt answered automatically, not even sure what he meant by it. Maybe in some metaphysical sense? Because at nineteen Daisuke was tall and dark and silly and sweet, just like—"Wait. Who said I like Tai?"

"Forget about Tai," Daisuke, will of iron, wrestled the conversation back to the task at hand, "What about me? I'm bad," he offered, "like you."

"You're definitely bad," Matt sat back, pretending to consider. Daisuke returned his stare, easily, eyes dancing. They began to negotiate.

"Tai might headbutt you."

Daisuke scoffed, "I've had more concussions than I can remember."

"You've got that weird thing with Ken and my brother."

Daisuke ran his eyes over the blond as if debating, but shook his head, "Sorry, but the weird thing stays. I could never give it up. Even for you,"

Matt laughed at him, "Don't you have any shame?"

"You don't get two boyfriends with shame."

"Would you wear the gog—"

"Of course," Daisuke said, before Matt could finish the word.

Matt leaned in close, prompting Daisuke to do the same. Matt motioned him a little closer. So Daisuke leaned in further. A little closer? A little closer, until Daisuke was nearly gagging in the tropical cloud of Matt's hair products. Then the blond said, "_No_. Now sell me some weed."

"Don't tease me like that!" Daisuke scolded, but obediently pulled out the stash from under the coffee table after indulging in a heavy, wistful sigh. "Here," a tossed bag fell into Matt's lap after a moment's rustling, "An eighth, no charge."

Matt peered at it suspiciously, "No charge. What, pity weed?"

"_Friendship_ weed," Daisuke made it clear he was offended.

"Free drugs make me nervous."

"Just take it. You're my role model." He knew better than to tell Matt the truth. He didn't like the idea of Tai hitting him. Even if he was scrappy in a fight, Matt was built like a sparrow, half of his weight was boots.

"Fine," Matt huffed, as if he were the one doing Daisuke a favor, and stood, shoving the bag into an empty cigarette pack and replacing it his back pocket, "So is molly free today, too?"

"Greedy," Daisuke muttered, pilfering through the stash once more and standing with a cellophane wrapper of pills in his hand, that he offered to Matt only to snatch it away, last second, "Depends."

"On what?"

Daisuke looked right into Matt's narrowed eyes, steady as a hypnotist, "A kiss," he held the wrapper above his head, molly-mistletoe, "But I understand if you're saving yourself for fucking Tai."

"God, you're the worst," Matt said, but stepped up to press against Daisuke, gamely draping his arms over his shoulders and catching Daisuke's lips in his own. Daisuke closed his eyes, too happy to live out this fantasy if only for one, dubiously purchased kiss. He ran his hands down Matt's spine and tucked the cellophane into Matt's back pocket. Matt broke off with a little laugh and took a step back, eyes firmly on the floor.

Daisuke looked away quickly when he felt Matt's gaze shift to him, but when he peeked Matt was still staring. Whoops.

"Um," Matt said.

"Yeah," Daisuke said, "I shouldn't—"

When Matt's lips found his again, Daisuke didn't waste a second. He pulled the blond's body tight, grasping, twisting fabric to force them closer together, as close as possible. Matt pushed back against Daisuke's mouth eagerly, his fingers tangled in thick auburn hair.

Matt ground his hips against him, losing all control. Daisuke's hands squeezed his ass to encourage it. It felt so good to be held after a miserable week alone in his apartment. God, he hated to be alone. He grabbed the hem of Daisuke's shirt and yanked it up over his head. But when he ran his fingers over the bare skin of Daisuke's back the texture changed and Matt broke off the kiss suddenly, eyebrows knitted.

"Daisuke, what's—" Matt started, guessing the answer, as Daisuke, guessing the question, turned to let Matt see the crisscrossing old scars.

"No one can say I wasn't his favorite," Daisuke, breathless, tried to joke. For once, his smile didn't spread to Matt, who was too shocked to respond. Matt ran his hand over the network of white lines in awe.

Daisuke, unnerved, tried again, "Matt?"

"If I don't leave right now we're gonna fuck," Matt whispered, miserably, letting his head drop forward to rest against Daisuke's back.

"Yeah, I know," Daisuke sighed. He knew it was stupid to be disappointed, but Matt had been so filthy, grinding against the thigh Daisuke had pushed between his legs like he wanted to jump on and ride. Can't blame a guy for getting his hopes up. He stepped away from the blond reluctantly.

Still, Matt lingered, eyeing Daisuke, the calculus of betrayal running rapidly through his mind, chewing his lip, willing himself to leave. He reminded himself that, weird thing or no, it was probably not okay for him to fuck his little brother's boyfriend. Not probably, definitely. It was definitely not okay, and TK would never, ever forgive him. It. Was. Not. Okay. "Okay," he said, swallowing hard, "Bye."

Matt opened the front door just wide enough to slip through, and then he was gone.

Daisuke plucked his shirt up off the floor, pulling it back over his head before falling onto the couch. He waited for his heart to stop racing. He felt like a little kid again— amazed. The whole point of flirting so shamelessly was that the blond enjoyed turning him down. Oh well. He touched his lips, still tingling from Matt's bites. Worth it.

The front door open and shut. Daisuke's hair stood on end. Oh, no. Not worth it, not worth it, not worth it.

"Dai?"

A minute earlier and he would've been caught. He tried to keep the panic from his face as he tilted his head back to see his upside down pair of lovers, "You're back early."

"It's hard to stay mad at you," TK still sounded mad. Sunshine, if you only knew.

Ken knelt on the carpet beside the couch, leaning over Daisuke so that curtain of his hair swung forward, tickling his cheeks. Their lips met. Daisuke, hands buried in plum colored silk, drew the boy with him as he sat up on the couch, or did he float there? Ken whispered an apology in his ear, violet eyes blinking shyly as he drew away.

"What's there to be sorry for?" Daisuke answered, brushing Ken's hair from his beautiful face with a shiver and feeling like himself for the first time all day, "I totally forget why we fought."

Satisfied, Ken smiled imperceptibly and turned to the coffee table to set to work rolling a joint.

TK sat next to Daisuke on the couch, still sulking and distant. Daisuke sank a hand into his hair and pulled. TK's mouth opened in pain, but Daisuke met his lips, helpless but to compare Matt's edgy desperation to TK's natural warmth. He forced his lips apart with his tongue. TK drew away to protest, "Dai—" but was silenced by one dark hand closing around his neck just hard enough to make TK's eyes grow wide with shock. Daisuke hovered just far enough away and watched with satisfaction as TK pushed forward against his hand, choking himself to reach his boyfriend's lips. Daisuke kissed him roughly, thinking guiltily of the last time they'd fucked, TK pulling him into the shower, his sunflower hair dark with water. Laughing and taunting each other until things escalated. He really shouldn't have done that with Matt.

"Were you bored?" TK asked, grazing Daisuke's ear with his teeth.

"Of course," Daisuke lied, accepting the lit joint Ken passed silently up to him. He caught the dark haired boy's fine wrist, planting a reverent kiss over his pulse point before letting go. "You know I wilt without you guys," he said, inhaling deeply. He tilted TK's head up, exhaling smoke into his open, willing mouth. Another day in paradise.

KNOCK! KNOCK!

Ken turned his head with a whip of his dark hair. TK pulled away from Daisuke's lips, eyebrows knit together. The knock was too authoritative, not the shave-and-a-haircut knock of a customer.

"Guys? Are you there? It's Tai."

"_Fuck_," TK whispered and frantically stabbed out the joint, waving at the stubborn smoke. Ken more calmly packed up the stash and slid it out of view beneath the couch. Daisuke sat frozen in place, heart beating wildly, silently rehearsing: _nothing happened, nothing happened, I swear to Veemon, Tai, nothing happened._

* * *

Next up: **Chapter Four: _Red Card_  
**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four: **_**Red Card**_

Tai'd been dreaming a particularly nasty-in-a-good-way dream about Matt fucking most of the players on Tai's soccer team while Tai watched, drooling. Dream Matt, all red and wet, all sticky, eyes slits, took two at a time. Wrapped his pink lips around a third, white throat bobbing as he swallowed and swallowed. Starving for it. Laughing, loose-limbed and supple as they passed him from lap to lap.

It was wonderful. Tai was too turned on by the show to crack any skulls. But, right when bukkake seemed imminent, Tai was rudely smacked awake to find to his disappointment that the only thing real about his dream was the drool. His cheek rested in a sizable puddle of it while Sora straight up Lost It on him. He'd been talking in his sleep, and repeating the phrase "But _I_ wasn't fucking him," did little to calm her redheaded nerves.

She stacked up a meager pile of his things and dropped a scuffed soccer ball, cherry-like, on top before pointing to the door.

Tai had time enough on his walk to Izzy's place to reflect that it really was better to forgo earthly possessions, a path he'd recently been pursuing in light of having no job and no money. It made break-ups mega easy.

* * *

Tai felt safe in the familiar wire jungle of Izzy's. Izzy sat where he always sat, enthroned in his well-indented computer chair. Tai sat where he always sat, on an ancient beanbag where Tai had sat since a teensy Tai had first visited a teensier Izzy, looking for wisdom. Little fans went _whir_, cooling off humming black boxes. Izzy went _hrmm_ and steepled his fingers.

Because it was Izzy's and Tai felt safe and sad and broken-up-with and homeless, he _really _shouldn't have, but he blurted it all out. Everything. How the dreams started months ago, when Matt tripped and fell at a party directly onto Tai's lap, sending his and Tai's drinks momentarily airborne before they both were covered in froth and skunk beer. Sora, who'd been next to Tai on the couch, had shrieked and scooted away to save her party dress, but Matt, his arms warm and wet around Tai's neck, had said "Tai, _god_," in a way that went straight to Tai's dick before wriggling (bad) off his lap, squeezing his bicep (worse) when he murmured sorry, and slinking away in these black, skintight pants, ass as shiny wet with beer as the rest of him (Matt, _god_).

Even though Tai knew, like everyone knew—it was part of the curriculum—that Matt was hot, he'd never realized Matt's hotness could apply, personally, to him, in a wriggly-black-shiny-pants and low-teasing-_Tai_-on-his-neck kind of way until that party. Thus, Tai's life had begun its slow spiral down, with Matt in real life making it _so much worse_ with his voice and his eyes and his ass. Tai didn't even know he liked that kind of stuff. Ass stuff. Sometimes he just wanted to take a bite out of it.

Instead, he started beating up everyone who touched Matt, which was too many people, sometimes it made him sick, then Joe had gone and become one of Them but he couldn't beat up Joe, so he'd had to trick him instead, which made him feel more sick, then Matt threw him down the stairs and Tai's phone broke and he'd kissed him and Matt said no but Tai spent the days after skipping class looking up hot, skinny, blond guys and their asses online, which resulted in an avalanche of porn that Tai had only just surfaced from because Sora overheard his bukkake dream and kicked him out, and he didn't remember if he had cleared the history on her browser before he'd passed out last night or not. He stopped abruptly there, not because that was all, really, he could keep going, but because Izzy's face was white.

"You okay?" Tai asked, even though traditionally this was the part where he should be happy to have finally gotten it all off his chest, and then he would receive excellent advice from a friendly genius that would lead to the day being won.

"I thought you broke up Matt and Joe for Joe's sake," Izzy said, slowly, "That was my impression, from what Joe told me."

_Oh, right._ "You're not gonna tell him the truth, are you?" Tai asked, and then winced at the sound of it.

"Tai."

"_Don't_."

"I _won't_. I'm just saying. What you did…abusing his trust…that's really bad."

"Well, _you're _bad for agreeing not to tell Joe," Tai said to a gaping Izzy, "He's your friend," Tai added, petulant.

"Yeah, and I'm not going to tell him _because_ he's my friend. Unlike you. You used him."

"I helped him."

"You're morally bankrupt."

Tai pointed to his still-healing black eye, "I paid for what I did," he whined, not meaning to, "_And_ my phone broke.

"When did you get like this?" Izzy asked, bewildered.

"I told you," Tai tried, "The party. Shiny pants. Bukkake," he fumbled for anything to make Izzy stop looking at him like that and finally gave up, "We can't talk about it at all, just 'cause I fucked up with Joe? I know it was mean, but _I_ want him, Iz. When I want something…" Tai trailed off, unsure how to finish. _I get it,_ wouldn't be an accurate end to that statement. More like, _I headbutt it, then it flees_.

Izzy looked down at his foot. His fingers unsteepled, "I thought you were straight," he said, "I…" Whatever it was he wanted to say, he couldn't say it, "I guess I thought you were straight," he repeated.

Tai shrugged. He hadn't really thought about it like that, "So, my Matt problem…" he said, trying to get to the part where Izzy solved it all, using science and math. But the little redhead wouldn't meet his eyes. He sat on his chair with his arms crossed, his legs crossed. His foot jumped in agitation. "Why not? We talk about everything," Tai tried, weakly, the dawn of realization breaking.

"I know this word gets tossed around a lot, Tai, but you're an idiot."

Tai smiled his roguish smile at that. At least it was familiar ground.

Izzy frowned at him for a long time before he said, "I think you should leave."

Tai had a lot to think about on the way to Daisuke's.

* * *

Daisuke opened the door and squeezed his eyes shut. He hadn't been lying to Matt. He'd had like a billion concussions. Enough that the doctors strongly recommended he not get anymore. That was his first concern.

His second concern, when the blow didn't come and he pried an eye open to find Tai staring at him with his head cocked curiously to the side, was what the hell Tai wanted, if not to beat him to death. God, he hoped it wasn't an intervention. That would be even worse.

"Hey, Tai," Daisuke said, trying to smile it off. Tai blinked at him, blearily. He looked like absolute shit. Like I-haven't-slept-in-days and my-best-friend-threw-me-down-the-stairs shit. He had a half-healed black eye and a bruise on his jaw to match. Suddenly Daisuke felt duped for pitying Matt. If anyone needed free drugs in this world, it was Tai.

Warily, Daisuke offered his hand for their secret handshake. Tai accepted. Then he just stood there again, staring at Daisuke through narrowed eyes. Daisuke's stomach clenched. _Oh god, he _does_ know. He knows about the drugs and how I had my tongue in his mouth,_ "Look, Tai. What happened was, it was just a stupid k—"

"No," Tai said, suddenly, stabbing a finger at him to shut him up, "No more redheads. I've got bad luck with redheads today." And with that, he pushed past Daisuke with a mumbled, "Where's Teeks?"

Daisuke sagged against the doorframe, letting out a long, long breath.

* * *

Ken may not have been a genius anymore but he'd known going into this experiment that it would fail spectacularly. Not through any fault of their own, but because triadic segregation was an inescapable fact of human behavior. In groups of three, one will always be isolated while two will form a pair. The triangle may be the most stable geometrically but interpersonally it was, to borrow Daisuke's phrase from the fight this morning, a _complete fuckup, get the fuck out, both of you_!

Anticipating this, Ken had made an important decision months ago, before anyone had fucked anyone. As the tension between them crackled like lightning, he'd decided his best course through the coming storm would be one of observational silence, taking the experience in as purely sensory rather than adding his own voice to what would surely be a loud, messy thing between TK and Daisuke. In other words, to borrow a phrase TK had shouted moments before the door had slammed in their faces, Ken had decided to _just shut up and listen for once_, _god_!

If you present a void, people with fill it how they please. As a result, both Daisuke and TK confided in him, and on the rare occasion Ken did voice his opinion it went much like the scene this morning when he and TK were left staring at the door, listening to the locks click into place, unseen.

"Come on, let's go," TK had said, turning his back on the house to start down the drive.

Ken jangled his keys at TK, as in, Daisuke can't actually lock us out of our own house, so why are we playing along?

TK, his back to Ken, shook his head like it couldn't be helped, staring down the road with his hands on his hips, "Strategic retreat."

"To _where?_" Ken rasped, one word carrying all of his exasperation. If only one of _them _had taken a vow of silence.

TK rounded on him, still on the muscle from the fight, but his eyes softened when he looked at Ken, fey little wisp that he was. No one ever yelled at him. In fact, if Ken wanted, he could walk into the house right now and spend the day curled on the couch with Daisuke, listening to their hearts beat.

"I'll buy us breakfast," TK offered, sensing his hesitation. After a long look back at the house, Ken followed him away. Ken had walked in TK and Daisuke, and TK on Daisuke and Ken, but every time Daisuke saw Ken and TK together without him he flipped. Ken considered this against the spirit of their experiment, and worthy of a time out.

Over breakfast, TK tangled his long legs with Ken's under the booth and set about talking himself down, as he did after every fight. Daisuke was a fuck. Daisuke was jealous. Daisuke acted like a jealous fuck, kicking them out like that. But, being a jealous fuck to begin with, who could fault him for acting like one?

Ken could only look away and smile, accidentally meeting the eyes of a waitress, whose gum dropped right out of her mouth as she turned scarlet. He looked away quickly, trying to minimize the damage. But TK had seen it all. He didn't laugh at Ken the way Daisuke would, invite her over, introduce himself, chat her up, teasing Ken until he was pink and squirming in the booth, eager to escape. No, TK just quirked an eyebrow, amused.

"Guess we should go back and grovel before he smokes his way through next month's rent," TK said with sigh, laying enough cash down to cover it before wrapping an arm around Ken for the duration of the short walk to his car: a thoroughly beaten hand-me-down from Matt with illegal tints and no rearview mirror, cigarette burns all along the driver's side upholstery and the check engine light on.

TK stopped him there, leaning back against the trunk with a sigh, the fight with Dai still weighing down his smile, "Sometimes I think you two don't need me, Ken. Like it would be better for you both if I just gave up. Found someone new, you know?" He pushed the gravel at his feet around, sadly, "I don't want to."

Ken let him pout for a moment. It was important to let someone pout if they wanted to. He'd learned that, because of their experiment. That and a million other unteachable things about other people. About himself. He didn't want it to end either, and he would've told TK that, if he was talking. Instead, he took the blond's hand and pulled him into the backseat of the car, beneath the cover of Matt's too, too tinted windows.

When you don't talk, there's no _where are we going_, no _someone will see_, no _slower_ or _faster_ or _less_ or _more_. No _I can't take you again, I'm too sore_, no _I'm sleepy_, no_ later_. They liked to try and make him noisy, make him lose control. Brag about it to each other. It was Ken's favorite game, too.

"Trying to finish what we started?" TK teased, lightly. He did everything lightly. His fingers closed around Ken's wrist, lightly. Ken kissed him in answer, sliding onto his lap, right where Dai had found them this morning, walking into TK's room with a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth.

They got back home much later than they'd planned.

* * *

The silence Ken loved so much proved problematic the second he walked into the living room to find Daisuke looking guiltier than he had ever seen him before, and that was remarkable considering Daisuke was nearly always guilty.

Then Tai showed up, looking like a drowned rat. Panic rolled off Daisuke in waves.

It didn't take Ken long at all to figure it out. He wasn't jealous, exactly, though he had a lot of questions like _why_ and _how_ and _where_ and _when_ and _what were you thinking_ and _what was he thinking_ and _what will TK think, god, he's going to kill you_.

He waited until TK and Tai disappeared down the hall toward the blond's room before grabbing Daisuke's wrist and pulling him down beside him on the floor.

"What, right now?" Daisuke asked, sounding game, one hand already sneaking under the hem of Ken's shirt.

Ken cleared his throat with effort and scratched out, "You're an _idiot_."

"Woah," Daisuke said, eyes going wide, "I missed your voice."

"What'd you do," Ken scratched, "with Matt?"

"Sssh!" Daisuke said, covering Ken's mouth with his hand, "Nothing, okay? We didn't. We just…we just kissed. Fuck. How'd you figure it out?"

Ken plucked a long blond hair off Daisuke's shirt and handed it to him.

"From that? You should be on one of those forensic shows. No, look. Okay," Daisuke said, changing his tune once Ken hid his hands in his face in despair, "I am taking this seriously. Ken. Look at me."

Ken, reluctantly, peaked out from under his hands.

"You've gotta get me out of this," Daisuke said, "I'm fucked."

"No," Ken rasped, "Mad at you."

"No, you're not, I can tell."

"_Irresponsible_," Ken scolded.

Daisuke shrugged, unrepentant. Down the hall, TK laughed at something Tai said. They'd known each other longer than Ken and Daisuke, Ken realized, feeling very strange. Stranger still was Daisuke's head coming to rest on his shoulder, "Ken, it probably makes me terrible. More terrible than I know I already am. But, I've known, from the start, I was walking out of this with you. Just you and me. I've always known.

"Just like I know you're not mad at me for Matt. Because you're a zen garden. You're fucking…" Daisuke dug deep into the vocabulary he'd picked up from Ken, back when they were just friends, "unflappable. You're like a painting of an old boat, with sails. You're like koi fish that's all white with one black spot. You're—"

"You're not getting out of this."

"Fuck. Come _on_," Daisuke whined.

"You have to tell him."

It was Daisuke's turn to hide his face in his hands. Then he perked up, "Not Tai though, right?"

"Not Tai," Ken agreed, rapping on his own skull with a fist to illustrate, because talking _hurt_, "too many times."

"Right?" Daisuke asked, brightly, "That's my whole thing, too! A few more hits to the head and I'll be eating all my meals through a straw," he said, then suddenly pulled a serious face, "You get me."

"I do," Ken said, draping an arm around him. He traced long lines down Daisuke's back until he shuddered and Ken, remembering, stopped.

* * *

From the looks of him, from the story he mumbled, TK figured Tai would want to pass out right away, but instead he poked around TK's bedroom, casting sad, puppy-brown eyes at where TK stood in the doorway until the blond said, "Oh," and stepped inside, pulling the door closed behind him. Tai looked relieved, but he still wasn't talking. TK thought it was weird when Tai didn't talk.

"So," he tried, "Sora and Izzy both kicked you out?"

"Yeah," Tai said, sliding all the way down the wall to form a slouchy, pouting pile on the carpet, "I've got whiplash." He hadn't said why, exactly, he'd been kicked out, but TK didn't want to push him. In TK's mind, Tai would always be cool and TK would always be eight. Tai retrieved the soccer ball from his humble pile of possessions and idly rolled it beneath his hand, "I'll just stay tonight. I'd go to Hikari's but..." Suddenly Tai's eyes swam, "You wouldn't kick me out, would you?"

TK laughed. He couldn't help it. He sat on the floor by his bed and opened his hands, Tai rolled the ball over to him. TK put his right hand on it and solemnly swore, "I promise not to kick you out, Tai. I'm not even gonna wake you up. You look like hell."

Tai nodded in agreement, closing his eyes for a long moment. Then he asked, "You know those mushrooms of forgetfulness Demidevimon tried to feed us?"

TK's eyebrows quirked, but he nodded, rolling the ball back.

"Do you think they still grow by the theme park?"

"Is it that bad?"

Tai just frowned at the soccer ball.

"Well…" TK didn't exactly want to tell him, but, "Dai and I ate some, a while back. The forgetfulness doesn't really last. Made us giggly though," TK thought for a second, "Good visuals."

"You ate some," Tai said, voice flat.

TK, all doe-eyed innocence, said, "It was Daisuke's idea."

"Hn," Tai rolled the ball. TK rolled it back. Tai sighed, "Everyone's gone crazy but me."

TK's eyes crinkled, "I think that makes you the crazy one, Tai."

"Maybe," The next time Tai got the ball he kept it, hugging it against himself, "I think if I avoid your brother forever then I'll be fine."

"That shouldn't be too hard," TK said, "Since you're best friends."

"Not anymore," Tai said, "I kissed him."

"Gross."

Tai rolled the ball back, and hid his grin in his arm.

"No wonder people keep kicking you out," TK said. His brother was a feral, rangy thing. You could trap him and he'd bite you, or chase him and he'd run from you. Or bite you. He didn't think Tai would appreciate this advice though, so he stood up and offered him a hand instead, "Go to bed before you say something worse and I have to go back on my word."

"Yeah, okay. Sounds fair," Tai said, dropping onto TK's bed with a bounce. He looked around, rubbing a hand in his hair as he took in the four-door dresser, overturned egg crate bedside table, the short stack of books for school, "You don't have a lot of stuff."

"Nah," TK waved a hand, "Things are just things. You taught me that."

"That's right," Tai toed off his shoes and laid back in the bed with his hands behind his head, "Makes break-ups easy, too," he said with a yawn, as TK slipped out of the door.

He padded down the hall, wondering whose bed he'd sleep in tonight. Sometimes they all squeezed in together—Ken had the biggest mattress—and would wake up in a pleasant tangle that took hours to sort out. Between gunpowder Dai, and Ken, who was steady as a rock in a stream, TK considered himself the happy medium of their group.

Sometimes it pissed him off, the sharing. Sometimes he didn't know who or what he wanted. Sometimes he hated Ken for stealing all Dai's attention, because Daisuke couldn't take his eyes off of him, would stop in the middle of a sentence just to watch him walk by. It was infuriating or endearing, depending on the day, the hour, the minute. Sometimes he wanted to hide Ken away, greedily, for himself. Sometimes he wanted to show Ken off like a trophy—it was awful but true. Sometimes he hated Daisuke for any of the thousands of reasons one hated Daisuke. Sometimes it was too easy to hate Daisuke. Sometimes he loved Daisuke so much it hurt.

When he walked into the living room they were both staring back at him, as if they'd been listening for his footsteps and someone was going to shout _Surprise!_ TK couldn't count the number of times he'd walked down the hall to find them nuzzling like happy cats, or asleep in each other's arms, or grinding helplessly, too impatient to wait on him.

Daisuke looked a little green. Ken's frown said, _You won't like this_.

"What?" he asked.

* * *

**Next up: Chapter 5: **_**Matt Attack**_

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